“I don’t know. He might have severe kidney damage.” My eyes grew hot. But the sting of tears didn’t come. I’d cried myself empty.
“I’m sorry, Grace.” Kai’s voice was filled with sympathy. For a moment, it seemed he might reach out to me. I stepped back. I didn’t think I could stand to be comforted right then. I might not have any tears left, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t completely unravel in the strength of his embrace.
I forced myself to refocus. “Jennifer told me something last night.” I paused, hating to betray a confidence. But as I watched Kai set the antifreeze bottle on the side table, I knew it was my only bargaining chip. “I’ll tell you, if you promise to look at the bottle.”
“So this isn’t really a favor. You want to make a deal.” All compassion had vanished from Kai’s face, replaced with hard lines of suspicion.
“Call it what you want. I know who poisoned Moss. My next-door neighbor, Burt Cavanaugh. I just need proof.”
“Okay. I’ll check the bottle for prints. But if this guy isn’t in the system, it won’t do much good.”
“Thank you.”
Kai waited. It was time for me to hold up my end of the bargain. “Jennifer said Mark was being stalked by Alexander Burke.”
Kai raised his brows, but not in surprise. It was more of a “This is your big news?” look. When I didn’t continue, he said, “And . . .”
I tried to think of a way around telling him about Mark and Burke’s relationship. I had promised not to, after all. “Jennifer said Burke was crazy. He had sent Mark several letters. That’s what she was doing at Mark’s last night. Looking for a letter to show you, so you’d go question Burke.”
“And what about you, Grace? What were you doing there?”
So he hadn’t bought our story. Not surprising. I thought about trying the phone excuse, but just then, I felt a whisper of an animal mind. The presence of a feline brain hummed just inside my periphery. “You have a cat.”
“Yes. I told you about him.”
I had forgotten that he’d mentioned having a cat. An idea began to form. I looked in the direction of the buzz. A few feet away, a sliding glass door led outside. I stepped toward it and spotted my target. A gray cat crouched behind the thick monkey grass that edged the patio. He was captivated by something moving in the long leaves.
Hunting.
So intent was the animal’s focus that he started when I tapped on the glass, staring up at me with round, chartreuse eyes.
I glanced over my shoulder at Kai. “What’s his name?”
Kai raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“I will.”
I unlatched the door and slid it open. The cat trotted in, meowing a greeting. I knelt down and began speaking to him softly. “Hello, kitty.” I ran my hand gently from head to tail. Let’s show Daddy that I’m not a whack job. What do you say?
The cat pushed into my hand. I cupped my fingers and scratched under his chin. Pure pleasure radiated from him in warm waves. Good. Yes. There.
It would be tricky. If the cat wasn’t talkative, and you never knew with cats, it might not get me much. But it was worth a try. I focused on drawing the cat’s name out of his contented brain.
Dusty. As soon as I gleaned that tidbit, I remembered Kai had told me when he’d come to the condo. I couldn’t use it as proof of my ability. And that was exactly what I was planning to do. Prove I could do what I’d claimed.
I thought about Sonja, the beautiful Saint Francis medal, and knew that this was my chance. I would lay it all on the table. What’s it going to be, Grace, half-ass or badass? Last time, I’d done a half-assed job of showing Kai what I could do. Not this time.
Pressing every distraction out of my mind, I reached for Dusty’s. The cat spun under my hand and looked up with a questioning squeak.
Gotcha.
It took a while. Dusty was very chatty, and that was a good thing. I beamed down at the cat—he was just full of interesting stories. I laughed and glanced up at Kai. “I’ll be sure to tell him.” Smiling, I stood and turned to face him.
With a look of supreme skepticism, Kai leaned back on the couch. “A message from Dusty?”
I stood in front of him and said, “Your cat wants you to know that he doesn’t want you to take showers anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
I couldn’t suppress my grin. “He’s afraid you’ll drown. That’s why he stands on the back of the toilet and cries while you’re in the shower.”
“What?”
“Oh, and he wants you to change the doorknob on your bedroom door back to what it was.”
Kai stared at me, stunned. “The doorknob?”
I nodded. “I have to admit, I’m not really sure what that means.”
Lips parted in shock, he looked from me to the cat. “Dusty could open the door,” Kai murmured, almost to himself. “He would reach up and pull down on the lever with his paw and open my bedroom door in the middle of the night. It used to scare the shit out of me. I almost shot him twice.” Kai focused on me. “I changed it to a regular turn-style knob. How did you know that?”
“You’re really asking me?”
“But. You can’t really talk to animals. That’s just . . . impossible.”
“He disagrees.” I motioned to Dusty, who had begun weaving through my ankles like a furry ribbon.
“I don’t believe it. Psychics don’t exist.”
“Believe it. Or don’t. But to answer your question, I was planning on bringing Jax back to Mark’s house to see if he might remember more of the murder. I was serious when I told you he saw what happened.”
“Wait.” Kai held up his hand. “More of the murder? You mean he’s remembered some of it?”
“Yes. Bits. Mostly emotions. The images I’ve seen don’t make much sense.”
“Tell me.”
I scanned Kai’s face. His brow was furrowed. Eyes bright, intense, and filled with some emotion I couldn’t pin down. Doubt? Anger? Impatience?
I tried to explain the images and feelings Jax had shared with me. “It was dark, obviously. Jax was outside. He seemed to know who was coming to the door. There was a sense of anticipation. Then . . . violence. Fear. Helplessness. And . . .”
“And?”
“Betrayal.”
“So you’re saying the dog felt deceived in some way?”
“No. It was more shocking. Jax trusted the person who came to the door. Felt they were . . . family.”
“Family,” Kai repeated. He seemed to consider the idea for a long time. He raked his hand through his hair and muttered, “I can’t believe I’m buying this.”
I felt my back go up. “No one’s asking you to buy anything.”
“Okay. Sorry. I’m just trying to get my head around what you’re telling me.”
“If you have a cup of coffee, and an open mind, I think I might be able to explain it to you.”
After a long pause he nodded. “Yeah, okay. Have a seat. I’ll grab a couple of mugs.”
I sat on the sofa. Dusty leapt onto my lap a nanosecond after my rear made contact with the cushion. I chatted with the cat while I waited for Kai to return with coffee. Dusty was happy and calm. I laid my head back and relaxed into his consciousness. It embraced me like a warm cloud. His purring vibrated in my head like the lull of ocean waves.
I needed to get a cat. They were better than Prozac.
“Black is all I can offer.” Kai’s voice jerked me back to reality.
I opened my eyes. Kai handed me an oversized mug and sat on the sofa, turning to rest his back on the arm so he could face me.
“I’m out of milk. And sugar. And just about everything else but mustard.”
“I’ll live.” I didn’t care
what kind of coffee was provided as long as it wasn’t decaf.
“Okay. I need to understand this before we can talk about what Jax may or may not have seen. Do animals have a vocabulary, or is it more like a vision?”
I took a sip of coffee as I tried to think of a good way to explain it. “It’s a combination. If an animal has learned a lot of words, then it’s more like a mental conversation. But most of the time it’s, I don’t know, like sensory perception. I can see, feel, and sometimes even hear, their thoughts.”
“How do you ask a question?”
“It can be tricky. Depending on the animal’s intelligence, and some other stuff, I can usually just think a question, with a little added imagery, and get a solid answer. Like I did with Dusty.” I ran my hand over the cat, who had settled contentedly in my lap. “He’s a very smart cat. I just asked about you, while kind of showing him your face and . . .” I paused. I’d never really attempted to put what I did into words. It was proving to be both a challenge and a thrill.
Kai was waiting for me to finish.
“I don’t know, questions are . . . they have a different feeling. In my head. Like opening a door or a box. I open the box with an image and a thought and wait for the animal to fill it.”
I focused on Kai’s face, wondering if anything I’d just said made a lick of sense. He was listening. Frowning, but listening.
“Anyway, like I said, Dusty was easy. He likes to talk. And sometimes animals just tell me things on their own. Like when you went to get the coffee, Dusty was very interested. He thought you might be opening a can of tuna. He told me that sometimes you pour the water from the can on his dry food. When you do that, he always makes sure to leave a whole lizard on the back step. Head and all. Even though that’s his favorite part.” I took a sip of coffee to shut myself up.
Kai’s pensive look had changed. He was staring at me in flabbergasted silence.
“Um . . . anyway. I guess I’m trying to say that, normally, I can get plenty of information from a dog as smart as Jax. But right now, it’s just too much for him.”
Kai wrinkled his brow. “Post-traumatic stress?”
“It happens to people all the time.” I searched his face for a sign of comprehension, but saw only doubt. “It may be hard to believe that a dog could be so affected, but he is.”
“So you went to Mark’s last night to try and jog something loose?”
“That was my hope.”
“Where was the dog?”
“Jax was in Bluebell a few blocks away.” At his confused look, I added, “Bluebell’s my Suburban.”
Kai was probably thinking, Great, I’m sitting here with a woman who talks to animals and names her cars.
“Anyway, I never got the chance to take him through the house. Maybe now it won’t matter.”
“Because you believe Jennifer Weston’s suggestion that Burke killed Mark?”
“Yes. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Kai shook his head. “No. If you’re right about Jax feeling betrayed by the killer, Burke doesn’t fit. He wasn’t close enough.”
I chose not to comment. Instead I said, “There’s something else. I got one solid thing from Jax. Kind of solid. Jaguar.”
“Jaguar? What, like the team? The animal?”
“The animal, I think.”
“You think.”
I let out a long, measured breath. “It’s not an exact science.”
Kai sat looking at me, those intelligent eyes probing. Uncertainty filled his face.
I returned his gaze and sighed. Of all people to reveal my ability to, I’d picked a man who dealt in tangible facts and physical evidence. How could I expect him to understand? “I’m aware that you usually don’t work like this. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“It’s hard to trust what you don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry. I realize this is a lot for someone like you to grasp—”
“Someone like me?”
“What I mean is you don’t get it. You’re never going to get it because you can’t dissect it under a microscope.” I tried to ignore the warm stirring of my temper.
“I’m a scientist.”
“I understand that. But you have to trust my instincts.”
Kai regarded me for a long moment before consenting. “Okay, so jaguar points to Burke because he was Charm’s handler. But why would Jax consider him trustworthy? Don’t dodge the question this time, Grace.”
Damn.
I hate breaking promises, I really do. But as I sat there looking at Kai’s stern, handsome face, I realized my loyalties had changed. Kai believed me. Reluctantly and not completely. But enough.
“Mark Richardson was gay. He and Burke were dating.”
Ignoring Kai’s snort of disbelief, I plowed into the story. When I’d finished, he sat shaking his head.
“And you believe this, why? Just because Jennifer Weston swears it’s true? What if she’s just pointing the blame away from herself?”
“I thought the same thing. But I know she’s innocent. Jax cleared her.” I explained the happy reunion.
“After you found Burke’s body, you said Jax told you he was murdered. You were telling the truth, weren’t you?”
I nodded.
“You’ve obviously changed your mind. Why? Why trust him to be right about Jennifer and wrong about Burke?”
“I was caught off guard at Burke’s. The smell for one, but mostly mentally. I have to be calm to face something like that with an animal so close. Otherwise it . . . it can be hard.”
“That’s why you gave up the vet practice. Because of the connection.”
Maybe I’d underestimated Kai’s ability to understand me. “Sometimes it’s too much. Sensory overload.”
Kai studied me for a moment. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, only that he seemed to be deciding something. I waited. Dusty had assumed the form of a loaf of bread on my lap. Front feet tucked under, tail curving along his side. His purr was a constant thrum. He had reached the meditative state achieved only by cats and Shaolin monks.
Suddenly, I was exhausted. I wanted to close my eyes and cocoon myself in the cat’s delta brainwaves. But Kai’s cell phone chirped, and Dusty and I both jumped.
Kai got up to answer, and I realized it was getting late. The morning sun streamed through the windows.
I was moving a disgruntled Dusty off my lap when Kai came back into the room.
“Grace. There’s been a development.”
CHAPTER 21
The tone of Kai’s voice was like a seven-pointed spur in my side. I stood, drowsiness dissolving like fog under a bright, burning sun.
He took the mug from my hand. “Come on, let’s get a refill.”
I didn’t need a refill. Released from the feline tranquilizer, my nerves had zinged back to life. More caffeine was a bad idea . . . I followed him into the small, neat kitchen anyway.
Glancing around the U-shaped room, I noticed two things: One, Kai was a neat freak. Two, he was a cook. Either that, or he had a serious knife fetish. The exterior wall, with the requisite over-the-sink window, was adorned with more cutlery than I’d ever seen. Displayed like artwork on magnetic strips were everything from colossal cleavers to delicate boning knives.
Kai’s big news momentarily forgotten, I stared at the glinting blades. “Whoa. What’s up, Dahmer?”
Kai smiled and handed me my mug. “More like Jack the Ripper.”
My expression must have been comical because he laughed.
“Should I fling this hot coffee in your face and run?”
“Wouldn’t Dusty have told you if I chopped people up? He seems to have spilled every other bean.” Kai leaned against the counter and grinned over the rim of his mug.
&
nbsp; “Probably.”
“An interesting way to do background checks on prospective dates.”
Not knowing what to say to that, I took a swig of coffee and changed the subject. “So what’s the news?”
His smile dimmed. “I think you might have been right to believe Jennifer Weston. The license plates came back on the cars entering Mark’s neighborhood. Burke’s car is on the video.”
“So that puts him at the crime scene, right?”
“It puts him in the area. We got some things off his body that place him in the house. Of course, he had jaguar hairs on his clothes that matched the one we found on Mark. And a piece of confetti similar to the stuff Mark used at his party was stuck in the tread of Burke’s shoe.”
“So that’s it? He did it? Case closed?” This seemed like terrific news. But for some reason, Kai didn’t seem happy.
“No. Normally, it would be that cut and dry, but a little bird told me she thought Burke was murdered. So I asked Maggie to run a more complete tox screen, and scrape his nails for trace evidence.”
My lips parted in astonishment.
He shrugged. “It never hurts to be thorough. Plus, telling me Burke was murdered didn’t help LaBryce, but you did it anyway. I knew you believed he hadn’t committed suicide.”
“Was he murdered?”
“Maybe.” Kai set his mug on the counter. “There are some irregularities. It seems Burke ingested wine before he died. But no bottle or glass was found in the house. He could have consumed it elsewhere, but it was odd. The angle of the entry on the gunshot wound is also unusual. Not the typical temple shot—too far back on his skull. There also seems to be evidence of unexplained bruising around the area.”
“Okay. What does all that mean?”
“Nothing. At least it didn’t until about five minutes ago. We found foreign DNA on his body. I just got the results. Burke had epithelial cells from a woman under his fingernails.”
“A woman?” For a moment I thought Kai was going to accuse me of being the donor. Guess I’m paranoid.
“With seven common alleles to Mark Richardson.”
“English?”
Woof at the Door Page 26
